


The Hills in March

by Blanquette



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Violence, Oblivious, One Shot, Protests, Some Humor, hyungwon is a smartass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blanquette/pseuds/Blanquette
Summary: It's the beginning of the 1980s, students are protesting the new regime and Kihyun watches from the top of the hill, complaining about that annoying guy at school.





	The Hills in March

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason the setback for this ended up being the 1980s students protests against the Chun Doo-Hwan regime and yeah I don't know why either. 
> 
> This was born when I owned myself on twitter and I actually really enjoyed writing it so I hope you three kihyuk shippers out there will like it too! 
> 
> On another note the boys look so good in the comeback pics who else is having a stroke.

**1.**

“I’m going to fight him.”

It’s warm on the hill, too warm for March, the sun beating down on the two listless bodies lying down in the grass. While Hyungwon looks ready to be put in the grave, perfectly still, hands crossed over his belly, Kihyun spreads out like a starfish, shoes kicked off and face hidden under his hat. His voice comes out muffled.

“I’m serious. I’m going to fight him.”

Kihyun can hear the smile in Hyungwon’s voice when he answers, his lazy drawl curling around each syllable as if speaking wasn’t really worth the effort.

“Does he even know you exist?”

“He will for sure, once I fight him.”

“Alright.”

“Can you at least try to sound like you care?”

Kihyun lifts himself up on his elbows, his blindingly white hat falling on his chest, and drills an annoyed stare in Hyungwon’s perfect face. The later doesn’t even open his eyes, lips stretching even more around his smile.

“I do care. I just. We’re graduating soon anyway, you’ll never see him again, the question is, why do _you_ even care.”

Kihyun glides over the hitch in his chest at the mention of graduation in favor of kicking Hyungwon in the shin.

“Because he’s the annoyingest man in the vicinity, that’s why.”

“Annoyingest isn’t a word. You’ll never make it into college at this rate.”

“Should a guy who spends all of his classes napping in the back really be talking this kind of shit.”

Hyungwon laughs, cracking an eye open to look at his friend. The light is blinding, though, so he closes it again and stretches, rolling on his side to pillow his cheek on his arm.

“I’m sure he noticed you. You dress like a clown, how can he miss it.”

Kihyun looks down at his baggy clothes, turns over the hat in his hands. Truth be told, he knows it doesn’t really fit him, he’s too thin and too small to really pull it off, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most out of the lifting on mandatory school uniforms.

“I’m sorry you’re not stylish enough to understand fashion, mister I love my uniform. Modernity will come for your skin.”

“Letting high schoolers dress however they want while beating up college students, we truly live in a modern paradise.”

“Speaking of, it’s starting.”

Kihyun nods to the foot of the hill, and that truly wakes Hyungwon up. He sits cross-legged, eyes alert; there’s a reason they’ve been perched on this hill for the better half of the afternoon, after all. It gives them an unobstructed view of the town square, and the good number of people gathered there. University students, for the most part, the ones they look up to, some of their professors, too, who had been expelled and came back in force with the start of the new semester. They watch with eager eyes as the protest gets organized, banners being deployed at the frontline and signs going up in the ranks. They can’t read the slogans from where they are but they know them well enough; _repeal the martial law_ , _release Kim Dae-Jung_ , and that word, _democratization_ , that they have yet to truly grasp the meaning of.

They can’t feel the tension from their perch, but they’re still on edge, Kihyun grabbing Hyungwon’s arm as the protesters start to chant. There’re police trucks parked on the other side of the square and Kihyun knows it’s death that pours out of them, but the protestors still stand, seemingly fearless, and he wishes he could be like them. It’s not his fight, though, as they are constantly drilled at school and at home, stay away from those, and it’s the fear in their bones that makes them stand up on a hill rather than down in the square. And so they watch, they watch until the sun starts to set, and this time nothing happens, the riot police content to remain threateningly on the sidelines while the protesters chant until they scratch their voices raw. There will be another tomorrow, and still the day after, and there will be marching in the streets; Kihyun and Hyungwon will be there, too, watching, wondering where all this will lead.

 

**2.**

He’s doing it on purpose, Kihyun thinks, there’s no other explanation.

“I’m seriously going to fight him.”

“You already said that, like, three days ago, and yet here we are.”

“He’s doing it on purpose.”

“I mean. You’re kinda tiny, maybe he just didn’t see you.”

Kihyun sends a fiery glare Hyungwon’s way who just shrugs, popping another candy into his big dumb mouth.

“I’m normal sized, you’re all just goddamn giants. And I’m dressed all in red. How could he not see me? He bumped into me on purpose. And then he _smirked_.”

“Yeah. It was kinda sexy. Unlike your freaking trousers, where the hell did you find them, clown school reject pile?”

“Excuse me, it was _what_?”

A roll of his eyes, and Hyungwon reclines farther back against the bench they’re sitting on, stretching his legs before him. His too long legs, that Kihyun definitely doesn’t envy, just as he doesn’t envy Minhyuk’s dumb height and his feathery hair.

“You’re staring at him all day; don’t tell me you’re not finding him at least a tiny bit attractive.”

“I’m not. Have you heard a word of what I’ve been saying?”

“All I hear is ‘Lee Minhyuk is so dreamy I want to punch his face in’ all day.”

Kihyun heaves a frustrated sigh, clasping his hands on his lap as if to keep his temper in check. Hyungwon can be infuriating. Hyungwon _is_ infuriating, most of the time, but they’ve known each other their whole life and it’s sort of too late to trade in for another best friend.

“Minhyuk is the worst. He’s a suck-up.”

“Just cause he has good grades doesn’t mean he’s a suck-up. Maybe he has a working brain and actually does his homework, unlike someone else.”

“Maybe I’m just gonna fight you instead.”

Hyungwon laughs, offering his bag of candies to Kihyun as a peace offering. Kihyun accepts, because Hyungwon isn’t actually wrong. Minhyuk doesn’t do anything that bad, except that he noticed how easily he riles Kihyun up and turned it into some sort of a game. It’s the sly smiles he throws his way when they get back papers he of course got a better grade on, the way he’ll seemingly innocently taker over Kihyun in the lunch line, or how he’ll bump into him in the corridors, always apologizing right away but Kihyun sees right through him. The worst thing is, Kihyun lets it get to him so easily. He’s studying harder than he ever had and the look on Minhyuk’s face the first time he beat him at a quiz was almost worth all the sleepless nights. Gym class is turning into their own personal war and no one wants them on their team anymore.

They don’t even talk. They just glare daggers at each other and if a stray ball hits one of them in the head, or if someone bumps into someone else in the corridors, it’s purely by accident.

“You guys just want to touch each other so bad.”

It would be easier to bear without Hyungwon making unfounded allusions with every breath he takes.

“Just eat your candies and shut the hell up, Chae Hyungwon.”

“So much pent up anger. You know the release you need?”

“If anything resembling ‘Lee Minhyuk’ comes out of your mouth, I’ll straight up deck you one.”

Hyungwon shakes his head with the air of a long-suffering saint, and takes back his candy bag from Kihyun’s hands.

“So much violence in such a tiny body.”

That’s it, Kihyun thinks, and he lunges at Hyungwon who starts laughing; they fall off the bench play fighting, shrieks and laughter mixing in with the dust. Kihyun doesn’t see him coming but he hears him alright, a sigh and a tsk, followed by a “children” in that veiled voice he can’t get out of his mind. Kihyun rolls off Hyungwon, both panting on the ground, and looks up at Minhyuk, who stares back with an amused smiled on his nice lips, two of his friends at his side. Kihyun wants to answer something biting but nothing comes to mind, and he feels his cheeks redden under the other’s stare. He hates it.

“Kindergarten is this way, if you guys are lost.”

“Fuck off, Lee Minhyuk.”

Kihyun grumbles just as Minhyuk starts laughing, and the boy is already on his way, waving back at them, before Kihyun can muster anything else. So he spats something at Hyungwon instead, maybe slightly louder than he meant to.

“I fucking detest him.”

His eyes are still on Minhyuk’s face as the wave falter while the charming smile falls, and Kihyun tries to deny the twisted feeling that springs in his belly.

“I love you too, Yoo Kihyun.”

The usual bite isn’t there in the voice, and Minhyuk turns back sharply, joining back with his friends, soon disappearing behind a corner. Hyungwon sits up, shaking the dust out of his hair and clothes, sparing a careful glance to his quiet friend.

“He sounded hurt.”

“Shut up, he didn’t.”

“I think maybe you fucked up, Yoo Kihyun.”

 There’s a beat of silence where Minhyuk’s stare flashes in Kihyun’s mind, and, well.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I did.”

 

**3.**

Kihyun tries to catch Minhyuk’s eye for the next three days, but the boy plainly ignores him. It’s even more grating than the usual rivalry between them. Kihyun feels a void.

And then, Minhyuk ups and disappears.

 

**4.**

They’re back on the hill, and it’s cold now, cold as it should be in March, really, but Kihyun can’t help thinking the weather twisted just to accommodate his mood. Hyungwon sits beside him, bundled up in enough clothing that his form is barely visible. He’s just a pile of layers, that sometimes speaks.

“You know, I heard something.”

“With those giant ears of yours I’d sure hope so.”

Hyungwon snorts while he pushes Kihyun with a gloved hand.

“Shut up, my ears are perfectly normal.”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

Kihyun shrugs, bringing his knees up against his chest; Hyungwon scoots closer, and there’s enough heat between them to keep the cold at bay for a little while. Hyungwon clears his throat, sending careful looks Kihyun’s way and the boy guesses where this is going. He just doesn’t know if he has the energy for it.

“I heard that Minhyuk’s father got arrested. I’m thinking maybe that’s why the guy hasn’t shown up to school, lately.”

Kihyun’s stomach drops. A sinking feeling, the ground opening and swallowing him whole.

“What? Why?”

“His father’s a teacher at the university, you didn’t know? He organized the union and everything. He’s in the protests all the time. I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.”

They stare down the hill, at the empty town square. Eyes unfocused, Kihyun can only see a blurry splash of grey and it’s Minhyuk he’s picturing in his mind, Minhyuk scrambling to keep his family together, knowing full well there is nothing to be done.

“Fuck.”

He buries his head in his knees as Hyungwon lays a comforting hand on his shoulder, and they stay like this for a while, on top of the deserted hill assaulted by the winds.

 

**5.**

They’re watching, as always, this time hidden behind the tall fence wall of the neighborhood church. The protestors are still at the end of the street and they don’t know yet, but the riot police is already there, at the other end. Kihyun exchanges nervous glances with Hyungwon. There’s something in the air, something tense, and this time doesn’t feel like the others. Kihyun tastes metal in his mouth and electricity in the air, and he’s scared, he really is.

“Maybe we should go.”

“Yeah, maybe we should.”

But they don’t, stuck in place, by fear or some sort of morbid curiosity, a fascination they never kept in check. There’s raised voices chanting slogans that barely push through the ringing in their ears, and the stomping of boots resonating in their ribcages like too loud steps in an empty church. Kihyun’s hands are clammy, and he knows what’s coming; the protestors know too, probably, but this is greater than them and they keep marching forward, and Kihyun wants to scream, tell them to go back, that nothing is worth your life, but maybe he’s wrong, maybe some things are. So he stays quiet and motionless, barely blinking eyes stuck on the advancing front guard of the riot police.

Hyungwon’s hand clamps down on his wrist like a vice, and Kihyun looks up just as his friend whispers in his ear.

“Fuck, Kihyun, look, it’s him.”

And it is, a familiar face in the front row, a face he’s supposed to detest but if he stops breathing it’s not out of hatred, throat dry and hands tightening into fists.

“What the fuck is he doing here? Why is he here?”

Kihyun’s frantic as he looks between the police and the protestors; it’s inevitable, he knows what will happen, and in the middle there’s Minhyuk, standing tall and proud. Kihyun stares, almost overwhelmed; Minhyuk’s marching towards something terrible, and Kihyun cannot stop him. He opens his mouth to scream, just as the world around them explodes.

He doesn’t know who started it, but it’s the closest to hell he’s ever been now. There’re bodies hitting the ground under harsh hands and studded boots, screams and yells and no one came unprepared. But Kihyun doesn’t care, his eyes don’t leave the familiar face, and something breaks within him as Minhyuk is brought to his knees with a hit to the head. Something breaks, and it’s fire that burns in its place.

Hyungwon vainly tries to grab him when Kihyun scrambles up and over the wall, jumping down into the fray. He sees Minhyuk now, on the ground, and there’s blood on his forehead as he’s dragged by the hair towards the police trucks, kicking and screaming but no one hears him, no one except Kihyun; Kihyun who trips and falls, hitting the ground harshly, the breath kicked out of him by black boots stomping on his ribcage. He flails, scrambles up as someone grabs him, tugs him backward. It’s over, he thinks then, it’s over, and he watches as Minhyuk is helplessly dragged away, pain and fear written on his face.

But it’s not. The fire within him burns white-hot and searing, a kind of righteous fury coming from deep in his belly. His limp body suddenly grows thorns and the man holding him wasn’t prepared for this, for the sudden violence of his victim. Kihyun breaks free with a snarl, and he runs, faster than he ever did, runs towards Minhyuk, tripping over himself and others, and when he reaches him he throws himself bodily at the man holding him. His fists collide with a face no older than his own, but he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see anything, not until someone pulls him back and he turns with a growl but it’s Minhyuk, blood running down the side of his face and eyes wide, and he made it, he made it.

“What–”

Kihyun just grabs his hand and starts running, and it’s slow going at first, but soon Minhyuk stops stumbling and they’re racing fast, through yells and smoke and fire, and it’s a wonder nothing catches them.

It’s not a time for laughing but Kihyun does anyway, a crazed laugh full of tears while he’s running through the streets as if chased by death itself. In a way they are; sometimes people disappear in cop cars and dark alleys and if you see them again, something has been carved out of their flesh. So he runs, tugging on the hand in his, so much bigger than his own, so much warmer. Out of breath, and if he runs any faster maybe he could fly. He doesn’t, lungs afire pushing against bruised ribs, hurting with each pounding heartbeat. He takes a sharp turn, a small alley he knows well, and pushes Minhyuk in a recess in the wall that will shield them from sight. It started raining, he doesn’t know when, but it’s fitting, somehow. They’re breathing fast, pressed against each other, damp and scared and beaten, wary of any sound coming from the mouth of the alley.

Minhyuk is taller than him, broader, too, but just as thin, and he would break so easily under harsh hands. Kihyun wasn’t scared for himself, he realized, he was scared for the other. There’s the sound of boots stomping, a sharp intake of breath, and Kihyun, pushing them further against the wall, stooping as if they could melt into the brick and mortar. They don’t need to, the night offers a better shelter than they could have hoped for; and maybe the rain was made just for them, too, because the boots go no further, and soon, the only sound is the pitter-patter of the hail against the ground. Kihyun looks up at the boy pressed next to him, rivulets of water washing the blood from his face, and Kihyun grins, bright and true. Minhyuk doesn’t smile back, but his eyes shine, and it drives a knife through Kihyun, something painful between his ribs, a realization; how close this was, how much time he wasted. And so, Kihyun kisses him.

It’s harsh, at first, big hands getting lost in his hair and tugging, his body pressed against a rough wall and they don’t align right, but it’s good, so good. Kihyun grabs at damp clothes, presses himself forward and they almost stumble back; there’s traveling hands and panting breaths and if they would die now it would be fine, really, nothing hurts anymore, not the purple streaks blooming on their skin nor the desperate hands burning their flesh.

 

**6.**

“Where did… Where did you even come from?”

“We were watching from behind the church wall.”

“The church wall?”

A smirk, and then –

“Children.”

“Shut up, I saved your life.”

“Yeah, you probably did.”

Silence falls then, a slow understanding dawning on them, now that they are out of the fray, safe, hidden away in Minhyuk’s room, door locked and blocked with a chair as if someone had followed them there, ready to burst in. It feels silly now, but it had seemed necessary after their second mad dash through the city streets, once they had peeled themselves out of the shelter of the alley. There was still noise, still screams, and Kihyun had had a fleeting thought for Hyungwon, hoping the guy had the good sense to hightail it out of there. He would phone him, later, once the adrenaline had died down, once he could untangle himself from Minhyuk’s body.

They perched on Minhyuk’s tiny bed, huddled together as if to reassure each other they did make it out in one piece. Minhyuk has a plaster on his forehead and all kind of shades are blooming on Kihyun’s ribs but it’s fine, they’re fine, they’re okay.

“I heard about your father. I’m sorry. Is that why you were at the protest?”

Minhyuk shrugs, eyes not meeting Kihyun’s own.

“Someone has to take up the slack.”

“You’re not afraid you’ll…”

“End up like him? I can’t afford to be afraid. The world is rotten. I should fight for what is right.”

“You’re so young, though.”

“And you’re not?”

“I am, that’s why I watch hidden behind walls.”

“Until you’re not.”

A pause, and Kihyun’s eyes drops to his hands, twisting in his lap.

“I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t let them take you.”

Minhyuk’s face bursts into flames and it’s such a departure from his usual proud demeanor Kihyun doesn’t even have the mind to be embarrassed by his own words.

“That kinda sounds like you… You know, like you like me.”

“Man, I beat up a policeman for you. I kissed you in a weird-ass alley. What more do you need?”

Minhyuk has a bashful sort of laugh, shortly lived as Kihyun looks up to find him intensely staring back.

“But you ‘detest’ me.”

“Don’t quote me back at me.”

“I’m just…”

“Look, teenagers do and say all kind of dumb shit, okay? Don’t take it to heart.”

There’s hesitation in Minhyuk’s face, a slight withdrawal that Kihyun doesn’t understand immediately. And then, he does.

“Kissing me in a weird-ass alley, was that some dumb shit teenagers do, too?”

“No, no, Minhyuk, this you can take to heart. Shit, I mean, I never thought a day would come I’d say that, but Hyungwon, the piece of shit, he was right all along, I–”

He’s interrupted by hands in his hair and lips on his own, warm and slightly chapped, tasting of a kind of desperation he knows well now; and so no words are needed anymore, as he lets Minhyuk make a home between his bruised ribs.  

 

**7.**

Hyungwon is insufferable when he finds out he was right all along. He even forgets about Kihyun not calling to check up on him, about the black eye and busted ankle he suffered while running away, he just sits there and gloats, munching on candies in a self-satisfied way that has Kihyun wanting to throttle him.

Kihyun doesn’t, though. There’s Minhyuk next to him, long arm languidly thrown around his shoulders, which has Hyungwon gloat even more, nodding to himself every time he glances their way. So Kihyun just boils inside, while Minhyuk and Hyungwon exchange niceties in an awkward attempt to get to know each other. They get along well enough, and it actually worries Kihyun quite a bit. His one smart-ass friend doesn’t need any backup.

**8.**

The world still is rotten, though. There’s still protests going on, some with a worse end than the ones in their tiny city. Kihyun still doesn’t know what this democracy they’re fighting for really is; Minhyuk’s father still doesn’t come back. The rib broken by that black boot heals crookedly, and it hurts when he breathes too hard.

The world still is rotten, but there’s some good things, too. Minhyuk’s laughter and his bright eyes and his lithe body under Kihyun’s hands. The nights they spend talking and rebuilding the universe with what-ifs. The ones where Hyungwon joins them, with his unending supply of candies and dry humor, the ones where Minhyuk’s friends join too and they all end up in a pile on the floor, trying to get the TV working. The first days of university, too, where Kihyun finally learns more, finds his place, maybe, during the days they spend in the union’s local painting slogans on banners, full of hope and a righteous anger, burning bright.

The world still is rotten, but a little less so, maybe, when they finally win, after eight long years and countless broken lives.

 


End file.
